Gambit: an XMen FanFiction
by Paperback-Walls
Summary: Well, again, I got bored, but this time it was in Social Studies! :O So, yeah, i figured, "hey, why not do a fanfic in a style of writing you've never tried before? so...I DID!     So, yeah, I don't own Remy, Belladonna, X-men, etc.
1. Prologue

Remy sat on the railing of his Louisiana home. His trench coat billowed in the small breeze as he took in the sight of the sun setting over the bayou. The secluded lake sparkled like diamonds in the yellow-orange light. The damp air started to cool, creating a thin mist over the surface of the murky water. The old willow tree hung its branches over the old wooden dock and swayed in the wind to the song of a retreating dove. The scene reminded him of a horror film, but that's how he liked it; creepy, yet comforting.

A voice called not too far behind the Cajun. It was soothing, yet he felt anger toward it. "Remy, dear, wateva' are ya doin' out here?" The familiar thin Cajun accent rolled off of her tongue and a pair of manicured hands clasped around his neck.

"S' nothin', Belle," he muttered half-heartedly, removing Belladonna's hands as he jumped down from his favorite spot. "Go back to ya own guild." As he trudged into the foyer, a deck of cards was suddenly pulled out and started to glow a faint red before he took them out of the little box. The blond woman followed him, casually twirling around once or twice, as if to show off her black wedding gown. White lace ran the border of the sleeves and torso area, where it then layered in semicircles along the stomach. Her hair was tied back with the same lace, but in the form of a bow. She looked stunning, but Remy's mind was sidetracked, and thinking about something he feared would happen at the two southerner's wedding.

Remy sat down one of the many antique thrones, putting the cards away, and leaning over to rest his elbows on the low armrests. He placed his gloved fingertips together. His dark auburn hair shone in the faint light of the lamp behind him as it hung low in his face, hiding the red irises of his demonic eyes. Belladonna sensed the tension in his mind. She walked over calmly and sat on a throne directly to his right. She put her finger under his smooth chin and tilted his head up to her eye level.

"Tell meh what's wrong, Remy," she hissed comfortingly into his ear, never taking her eyes off of his. He returned her gaze, but not for long. She stared to fade away, into the oncoming blackness. As the darkness swallowed his future wife, the room went with her. "Belle?" Remy said watching her retreating form. "Belladonna!" he yelled into the shadows as he stood from the now invisible chair. "BELLADONNA!"


	2. Chapter 1

"'S he a'right?"

"Yes, he is fine, but I will have to run more tests."

"How long is dat gonn' take?"

"It could be a while."

"…Well, I trus' ya, Doc."

"Good, for Mr. LeBeau must come up to my office in New York."

"W-Wat…?"

"Also, if you do not mind, may I take him now? I have business to attend to."

"O' course, Hank. 'Is clothes in dat bag."

"Thank you, John-Luc; he will be in good hands."

"You betta' hope so."

…

Remy awoke with the most awful headache, which was worsened greatly as his eyes were hit with a fluorescent white light. His eyes burned and stung at the white glare. It pained him, but he opened his already damaged eyes again to take in his new blinding surroundings.

The room was painted white, along with the hospital bed's frame and the two doors. The linen sheets that covered the Cajun and the rock-hard mattress were the same white as the large square tile. Many machines with multi-colored flashing bulbs and buttons were hooked up to a heart monitor. The monitor beeped with the slow, calm heartbeat that filled Remy's ears. He sat, blinking, as he stared at the large window pane, waiting for something to happen.

As the heart song came to a strange end, the first white door opened. A large man covered in blue hair walked in wearing a lab coat. It was the oddest thing Remy's mind had ever registered. The mutant's well defined muscles were practically screaming "beast" as he watched him walk across the room to examine one of the many clipboards hanging on the wall over a cool metal table covered in test tubes and beakers. The fizzing and bubbling liquid made strange animal-like noises as the large blue doctor mixed and tampered with them.

After a minute or two of constant noise, everything in the white hospital room went silent as Remy tried to remember what had happened the other day. Questions raced through his head like a NASCAR speedway. Questions such as "Why am I here?" and "What is the reason for this blinding white room?" filled his mind, making his senses dull and his breathing deeper. The doctor, however, picked up the change in the silent white room, and he turned to look at his patient. "Hello, Mr. Remy LeBeau."

The mutant was making contact with _him? _Remy cleared his jumbled thoughts just enough to reach out his hand to shake the blue man's giant hand. "I am Doctor Hank McCoy, but you may call me Beast." The Cajun man was too shocked to speak. Just as his voice started to return, another mutant walked into the room. She wore a pale blue tank top with a pair of khaki shorts. Her long cocoa legs stretched down to reveal sandal-clad feet. She had dazzling blue eyes and her pure white hair stood out, even in the solid white room around him. Her golden hoop earrings had little "X's" in the middle that matched the African necklace she wore around her neck.

Beast, noticing immediately that their guest was utterly confused, replied to his obvious thought, "This is one of my colleagues, Ororo Monroe. Her mutant name is Storm." Remy slowly nodded, despite his confusion. The woman—"Ororo"—also walked to him and shook his somehow scratched and bleeding hand. As her skin made contact with his, the back of his mind tingled with anticipation of getting to see this woman again, for he knew he would meet her many times in this place. "Hello, Remy, I am glad to see you are conscious after the plane ride here. I see that nothing was damaged too badly?"

"W-Wat…?" Remy was lost in her eyes. He would have been oblivious to anything that woman would have said. Her smile warmed his cold body. Hank cleared his throat as if to say "Ororo, Mr. LeBeau is unavailable to talk at the moment. I must ask that you leave." She met the doctor's eyes and nodded, slowly and reluctantly slipping her hand out of the stranger's. She nodded a farewell to the Cajun and turned to walk away, leaving Remy's mind to jumble with more questions.

"So," Beast turned to the distant mutant, "shall we begin?"


	3. Chapter 2

"You see, Remy, you battled Julien and eventually killed him. Your powers went haywire, and you, um, 'exploded'." Hank had been trying to explain Remy's injuries, but the Cajun's mind was so distracted and injured. Nothing was really sticking with him. He truly _was _trying to pay attention. However, something itched at the back of his head that told him he knew this already. It was strange, yet somehow, he knew that he must deal with it at another time. So he sat on the bed and stared at the pacing blue doctor as he listened to his nonsense babbling about Belladonna's deceased brother. _It's 'is own damn fault_, he was constantly being reminded.

"Remy," a faint knock at the door distracted Hank long enough for the Cajun to lie down and let his mind relax. He felt very tense remembering these events, and he just wanted to have some peace; to be with Belladonna again. The memories of the so-called "dream" he'd had the previous night flooded into his thoughts and he started to wonder: 'S_ me an' Belladonna s'posed ta be married? Or 's somt'in s'posed ta happen in between? _

"Remy," Hank said again, starting to worry that the Cajun man was truly lost. However, Remy heard the blue doctor call his name and he turned his head slowly to look at him. "You've met Jean, haven't you?" Beast said hopefully. Remy thought about that name and his head tasted it like an ice cream tester, but he'd never heard that name before. He shook his head and Hank sighed. This was going to, unfortunately, take a lot longer than he'd hoped. "Well then, you may meet me now," said a calm yet feisty voice.

Sure enough, as he heard it, a woman with bright red hair and green eyes walked in. She was an average height, with a green t-shirt and jeans. She walked over and sat in the cold hard chair next to his bed. Then she looked directly at him. Just as she did, something pushed in the back of Remy's head, and he didn't like it. He pushed back, and the woman, Jean, in front of him almost fell out of the chair. Remy froze. Was _she _doing that?

"'M sorry," Remy managed to rasp as his failed vocal chords were stretched to their extreme. "That's…That's alright," Jean muttered as she looked into the demon eyes that hid a mind she could not read. They opened a whole new realm of unknown information that the read-head longed to uncover. She wanted to soak in all of this man's feelings, thoughts, emotions…All of this would be just out of her grasp.

"Jean, the Professor would like to see you," called a tall man with crimson glasses. The woman turned and halfheartedly smiled at him. "Hello, Scott," she started distantly. She was still roaming her own mind to devise a plan to uncover the Cajun man's thoughts. "I'm coming, just as soon as I have a word with—" A strange look from the brown haired mutant stopped Jean from saying anymore. She turned back toward the man sitting on the blank white hospital bed. _"I'll come to see you later, __**Gambit**__." _ Said her voice, but her thin pink lips did not move. She walked out with the other man, and Remy thought to himself, _"Who's Gambit?"_


	4. Chapter 3

As the days past quickly, and the wing became chilled and bitter, Remy's mind had not only recovered, but was holding up immensely better than it had functioned before the wedding and Julian's passing. Hank had explained to Remy about the second week in the blinding white hospital wing that where he was currently being accommodated was an education center for young mutants, and that once his mind was set and ready to take in the knowledge it had long since forgotten, he could attend. The Cajun man agreed to training and classes. However, all but three of the large white mansion's current residents were strangers to him. The woman with fiery red hair had visited only a few days prior to Hank's explanation about the whole situation, and Remy had already become distracted by women before her latest departure from his medical room, so her wonderfully catchy name had slipped his mind. And the exotic African woman, Ororo…his hands trembled with anticipation at the thought of her next visit.

So, as he sat on the familiar white mattress of the shining room with linoleum tile, he longed to meet with the two women. "An' possibly encounta' a few mo'," he added, chuckling to himself, while his enhanced hearing picked up delicate footsteps coming from the hallway that his back was currently facing. His eyes quickly shot a glance behind him to see who was approaching as he charged the cigarette but in his mouth and casually tossed it out the open window. Just as he exhaled a dark puff of smoke and turned around, the silver doorknob twisted and the door swung open gently.

What Remy saw made his mind whirr. The redhead-Jean was it?—was with a woman that immediately caught his charcoal and crimson eye. She stood in the doorframe like an angel from heaven; an angel with curly auburn hair running to her naval with a bold white streak hiding the right emerald eye. Her small forest green tank top barely covered her torso, and the waist length brown leather jacket was embroidered on the left shoulder with a bright red and yellow "X" within a circle. Popping yellow gloves covered the length of her forearm, meeting with the dusty brown sleeve just past her elbow. Khaki shorts to half of her thigh revealed perfectly smooth, perfectly tanned legs that seemed to go on forever until the short brown leather boots ended abruptly.

Finally, Remy came out of heaven and into reality as Jean started to speak. "Gambit, this is Rogue. She will be accompanying you on the tour of the mansion." Even through the thinning cigarette smoke, Remy could see Rogue's eyes light up at the sight of him. He got up, not having walked in forty-eight hours, and leaned against the small white table beside the bed. She seemed to take a step forward toward him, almost as if she expected a proper handshake as a greeting. As the sun rose in the sky at that moment, it cast a ray of yellow light onto her angelic form. The two southerners' eyes locked in a soft stare of acceptance. She was not a threat to him, or him to her. Finally, the woman spoke, her voice like honey, soothing every inch of the disturbed Cajun.

"Hi, sugah, Ah'm Anna, but call meh Rogue."

"An' Remy pleased to meet ya, _chere_."

He didn't know where it came from, or why he'd said it, but Rogue was his honey; his _chere. _He felt in as soon as she talked, the minute she laid eyes on him. And she felt the same way, though she didn't know it at first. To her, he was a beautiful Cajun man that would've been wasted on some…some _swamp brat_ of a wife. She couldn't have it. Then they both thought and knew the same feeling: they'd just met true love.


	5. Chapter 4

The red-haired woman smiled at the two mutants gaze. She hated to break it up, but there _was _a tour to begin. "Mr. LeBeau, Anna. Scott and I will lead you through all aspects of the mansion, with the exception of the lower levels. If you are fit to follow me…"

She trailed off, but Remy seemed to sense what she was truly thinking about the situation. He centered his mind back on Rogue. She was beautiful—that was for sure—but the Cajun was a flirt. Before anything serious was going to take place, he had to meet the other women at this institute. Apparently his mind was being slow, for he heard Anna's honey-like call from the doorframe. "Ya comin' sugah?"

He wished he could answer, but the remains of his vocal chords were used up and scratched. So he just nodded as he managed to get off the wall he was leaning on. It was a rather shaky procedure, and for a split second Remy imagined having to be carried in Scott's arms down the stairs into what he'd assumed was the main foyer. That certainly was _not _going to happen around Rogue. He didn't want to look like a man who couldn't take care of himself. Not that he was, anyway. So he took a few quivering steps to the door. Thank god they had arrived at the stairwell prior to his exit, so they didn't have to see his first steps in two days.

Jean put through his head,_ "Come on, don't think I didn't see that." _Then laughter filled his head, but not his own. "Come on," she said again aloud. He shrugged and attempted to keep pace with the moving group. Merde, this was going to be a long tour.


End file.
